


Star of Shimal

by TheBlackFlamingo101



Category: Sekai-ichi Hatsukoi
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst and Porn, M/M, Master/Slave, Romance, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-28 13:12:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5092013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackFlamingo101/pseuds/TheBlackFlamingo101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his uncle's death, Kou Yukina inherits his estate, including a slave who holds more mysteries than answers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story originally started under my same pen name on Fanfiction.net. It was largely inspired by the new Arslan Senki anime, at least atmosphere wise.

The great imperial capital of Carthier was draped in black, and every man, woman, and child stood in the dusty streets as the funeral procession slowly marched by. Faces were somber and heads were bowed as the people of Taphrenion prayed for the spirit of Khar Yukina, a great lord and general who had passed to the netherworld. He had died last night after an illness claimed his aged body, but according to the rumors, did not suffer.

The family of Yukina headed the procession behind a brigade of soldiers and standard-bearers, with a young man at their front. He was Lord Khar’s nephew and closest living relative, Kou Yukina. Although his gaze was usually bright and dignified, today it was shrouded with mourning. His golden head as bright as the sun was covered with the hood of his black cloak, and his eyes stared down at his hands that loosely gripped his horse’s reigns. The other noble families were saddened that such a handsome face harbored such darkness. It was indeed a grim day.

 *** 

“My lord,” said a servant from outside the chamber door. Kou turned from the view of the sunlit city beyond the balcony as she came in. After the funeral this morning, he had retreated to his private quarters to ponder his uncle’s death, and the household had reverently kept their distance.

“Yes?” he said quietly.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, my lord, but Lord Reiva has arrived,” the girl said with a bow.

“Send him in.”

Moments later, she returned with a man just a few years older than her master, who put his forearm against his chest and nodded respectfully.

A flicker of a smile crossed Kou’s melancholy face. “So formal today, Reiva? Aren’t you the same man who beat me so embarrassingly at lots last week?”

Reiva Maroh smiled as well. He was a lesser nobleman who had pursued law in his studies. Despite the social gap between them, two had known each other since they were boys and had always been on friendly terms. He was here today primarily on business matters, but also wished to see how Kou was taking the recent loss.

“Circumstances compel me to be formal, Kou. But please note that I am happy to beat you in any game we partake in. However for the time being, we should discuss the matter of Lord Khar’s estate that he bequeathed you.”

Kou sighed. “Isn’t it a little soon for that?”

“I know it seems that way. But if we don’t take care of this quickly, you’ll have the other noble families barking at your doorstep spewing pleasantries and subtly inquiring what you did with your uncle’s gold.”

Kou turned back to the balcony, his brow creasing. “I’m almost inclined to let them have it.”

Reiva’s eyes were sympathetic as he laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Your uncle left everything to you. Do him a favor and accept it for the time being. Once we’ve gone through everything you can get rid of what you don’t want.”

This did not seem to sway Kou, so Reiva decided to switch tactics. “Need I remind you of your uncle’s skill with a brush as well as a sword? Would you leave his glorious paintings to rot in that mansion?”

Kou looked over his shoulder, his expression both warm and irritated. “I’m starting to think you know me too well, Reiva. You get shrewder with every passing day. But you’re right, I owe it to my uncle to at least oversee the remnants of his estate.”

“Shall we go then?”

Kou agreed and the two men left the property on horseback, riding to the far eastern hills where Lord Khar’s palace lay. It was nothing less than magnificent to behold, with lavish courtyards and polished marble buildings inlaid with gold. Even though Kou and his uncle had been close, it had been quite a while since he’d been here, as Lord Khar had preferred his work and luxurious parties to be held in the city.

An old man with a rich, embroidered cloak was waiting for them in the front garden, and Kou recognized him as Jareth, his uncle’s steward. He had been at the funeral this morning, but they had not had a chance to greet each other.

“Lord Kou,” Jareth announced with his hands spread in greeting. “Allow me to offer my deepest condolences for the passing of Lord Khar. There are few in the world who could have hoped to rival his greatness.”

“Thank you,” Kou replied.

Jareth gestured to several plush couches nearby and the men sat down as servants brought forth platters of fruit, wine, and other delicacies. Once they were adequately refreshed from their ride, Jareth produced several documents from inside his robe and set them on the table.

“Lord Khar was rather adamant that his estate be in order for you, my lord. Here you will find the total amounts of his bequeathment: gold, silver, works of art, and other material possessions.”

Reiva took the papers in his hand and looked them over before giving Kou a nod.

“And here,” Jareth added. “Is the document of live goods such as horses, cattle, and slaves.”

Kou’s expression shifted a bit, as the enormity of legal issues was far too great for his weary mind. Reiva saw this and turned to the steward.

“If Lord Kou did not desire to keep the bulk of the live goods, might they be put up for auction?”

“Of course,” Jareth said. “I would oversee it myself and be sure they were sold for a fair price. Lord Khar kept everything in impeccable condition. However, there are a few particular stock which I would recommend keeping in your possession.”

“Such as?” Kou inquired.

“Theus, for one, your uncle’s prized warhorse. It would be quite a shame to auction him, considering he bore Lord Khar in many victorious campaigns.”

Kou nodded in agreement and listened as Jareth mentioned several other animals and artisans of note. The flawless organization of it all clawed at the wound on his heart made by his uncle’s passing. Khar had been a meticulous man, sparing no detail in anything he did, and it grieved Kou to remember how much he had loved that quality.

“And finally,” Jareth said. “It was specifically stated in Lord Khar’s will that his personal slave go to you.”

“Personal slave?” Kou said. “I don’t recall my uncle having one.”

“Few people knew about him, as Lord Khar did value his own privacy. The slave is of great worth, considering he was trained in many areas which my lord would find useful. He can also read and write as well.”

“An educated slave?” Reiva chuckled. “Most people consider that a great folly, as it has led to more than a handful of uprisings.”

“That may be,” Jareth said. “But I can assure you that Kisa is not a typical slave. He learned his place early and quickly in life and his obedience was so great that Lord Khar never raised a hand to him. In fact, it’s worth mentioning that Kisa was the first one at Lord Khar’s side when he took ill. Your uncle was quite fond of him.”

“Kisa,” Reiva said. “A literal translation of beauty. That’s a lofty name.”

Jareth smiled. “Yes, and quite literal I assure you. Lord Khar gave him that name when he acquired him.”

Reiva gave his friend a knowing smile. “I’d like to see the slave who could win over your uncle so easily.”

“Would you like for me to send for him?” Jareth asked Kou.

“That’s fine,” Kou replied. “But I’m more interested in seeing my uncle’s private gallery. I don’t want anything to happen to his paintings.”

“Of course, my lord,” Jareth said. “As they are treasures in themselves. Let me take you to the gallery and I will have Kisa meet us there.”


	2. Chapter 2

Jareth opened a set of large double doors that led into a chamber with a high ceiling and the three men entered. Reiva stayed back to observe, knowing full well that any words spoken would fall on deaf ears, as his friend was already lost in the art. Kou’s face lifted a bit as he walked further in, his eyes taking in the glory of his late uncle’s paintings. Portraits of Taphrenian gods, colorful bowls of fruit, and even a few pieces of his horse adorned the walls, like windows leading to different realities. Some he remembered, and some he did not, but he could see his uncle’s hand in each of them. He paused in front of one, tracing his fingers along the carved wooden frame that bordered one of the paintings. He closed his eyes, inhaling the scents of mineral pigments, animal fat, and charcoal. Although his uncle had been notoriously known for his many battles, Kou knew that these paintings also held a large portion of his legacy.   
As he moved from the wall, something caught his eyes and he went to the front of the room. A large canvas, much bigger than the rest, resided on an easel near the window, its image hidden by the silk draped over it. With child-like wonder, he took hold of the fabric and pulled it back, and he was astonished by what he found.   
It was a painting of a young man, though his beauty was so wondrous Kou almost mistook him for a woman with short hair. He was fully nude save for a dark blue loincloth that bore over a dozen gems, and other bits of glittering jewelry accented his sensuous form. One of his arms was stretched above his head, while the other was curled against his chest, his fingers lightly touching the dip between his collarbones. He looked as though he was in peaceful bliss, his eyes closed and his lips slightly parted. The background was made up of several different hues of cerulean dotted with shining stars like a night sky.   
Kou stared at the painting for more than a few minutes before Jareth came over, also admiring the work.   
“This was the last piece Lord Khar finished, though he worked on it for almost a decade.”   
“What is it called?” Kou asked, not even looking at the steward.   
“The star of Shimal, I believe.”   
“And who is the painting of? He doesn’t look like anyone in Taphrenian lore.”  
Jareth was about to reply when a steady knock came from the door. He gave the young master a smile.   
“Let me show you.”   
Kou’s eyebrows furrowed curiously as Jareth went to the doors and opened them, and when a small figure stepped inside, Kou’s mouth dropped. Standing before him was the boy in the painting, and he was in awe at the exact likeness his uncle had created down to the smallest of details. It was as if a god had breathed into the young man and he’d stepped down from the canvas. But even more astounding was the boy’s natural beauty. Most Taphrenians had tanned skin and blond or red hair, but his skin was pale and his hair was black as soot. His facial features were small but firm, and his dark eyes held a gleam of calm intuition. Kou had never seen anyone like him.   
“Lord Kou,” Jareth said as the dark-haired boy bowed. “This is Kisa, your late uncle’s personal slave.”   
Kou said nothing, still lost in the comeliness before him. Reiva, however, whistled under his breath and approached the slave.   
“You weren’t joking, Jareth,” he said. “This slave puts my lovely Lize to shame.”   
Reiva reached out and took Kisa’s jaw in his hand, turning his head so he could study the face in profile. Kisa did not so much as blink as the man inspected him, touching his hair, face, and even smoothing his hands underneath the slave’s dark tunic to palm his lean torso.   
“Obedient too,” Reiva hummed. “No wonder Lord Khar was so taken with him. Where is he from? He can’t be Taphrenian.”   
“No,” Jareth replied. “He’s from Valchiria, in the northern continent.”   
“Valchiria?” Reiva said. “I thought that entire country was wiped out during the war.”   
“It was, but there were a select few who were brought back as slaves. From what I heard, Lord Khar chose him personally.”   
Reiva shook his head with a slight smile. “I may beat you in lots, Kou, but it seems the gods enjoy humbling me by raining down their blessings on you right in front of my eyes. If he wasn’t your uncle’s I’d spare no expense to have him…Kou?”   
Kou blinked and looked at his friend. “What did you say?”   
Reiva laughed. “It seems this slave has already got his hooks in you.”   
“Sorry,” Kou said with a slight smile. “I’m just amazed by my uncle’s talent in capturing him. Seeing the beautiful things he painted has a healing effect on me.”   
Kou’s warm eyes drifted back to Kisa, and he was surprised to see the slave’s gaze on him, though his face betrayed very little emotion.   
“Jareth,” Kou said. “I would like all of my uncle’s work at my residence as soon as possible, along with the stock and slaves you suggested keeping.”   
Jareth nodded. “I can have them brought to you immediately, my lord. Kisa, go tell Eron to ready the wagons and prepare to leave.”   
Kisa bowed again and left without a word, and Kou found himself staring at the slave’s back as he headed out the door. But he was broken out of his trance when Reiva sighed heavily.   
“Do you intend to return to your house, Kou?”   
“Not yet,” Kou replied. “I want to oversee the delivery.”   
“I thought as much. As for me, I will return to the city and finish my work. Though seeing that Valchirian beauty has got me itching to hold my Lize.”   
Kou chuckled. “You have that itch practically every hour, my friend. It astounds me that he has any energy at all.”   
“I have a feeling you’ll understand my situation better after you’ve tried out your Kisa,” Reiva smirked. “If I remember correctly, Lord Khar had a voracious appetite himself. Oh to be a bird and steal a look at your bedchamber through the window.”   
“I won’t be resting at all until the paintings are safely in my possession.”   
“Of course,” Reiva sighed. “I bid you both farewell for the day.”   
After his friend had departed, Kou leaned against the wall and watched as several men began to take down the paintings and carefully crate them. It took several hours, and as unwavering as he was to observe the delicate process, Kou found himself quite weary.   
“Some wine, my lord?”   
Kou started when a low voice spoke and found Kisa standing next to him with a silver pitcher and goblet in his hands. This Valchirian seemed to slink around like a cat, disappearing and reappearing only when he wanted to. But wine sounded far too good to refuse and Kou took the goblet from his hand.   
“Thank you,” he said as Kisa poured the fragrant liquid. The slave dipped his head in reply and was about to head back to the kitchen when he noticed the servants taking a particular painting off an easel. It was the one Lord Khar had painted of him and he paused for a moment as a few memories flickered through his mind.   
“It’s a wondrous painting.”   
This time, Kisa jerked when he heard his new master’s voice from behind him. Kou saw his baffled expression and smiled.   
“I have to admit,” Kou said. “That it’s my favorite one. It must’ve been very important to my uncle, to have him spend so many years on it and also, to make it his final work.”   
Kisa’s calm expression shifted a bit and he silently nodded.   
“I’m curious about the name, though,” Kou added. “I’ve never heard of ‘Shimal’ before.”   
“You wouldn’t have, my lord,” Kisa said to Kou’s surprise. “Shimal is a Valchirian name from our legends.”   
“Really? Tell me, what does it mean?”   
Kisa closed his eyes briefly and sighed. “Death, my lord. Please excuse me.”   
Kou watched Kisa as he slipped out the door. Even though a question of his had just been answered, the truth only uncovered more mysteries of what lay behind those dark eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

The wagons had been loaded at last, and Kou mounted his horse as they began to move out of the estate and back to Carthier. He had decided to ride at the back of the caravan to ensure nothing would happen to the cargo. Kou glanced behind his shoulder as Theus, his uncle’s old warhorse, was led out into the courtyard, a great black stallion with silver and gold rings braided into its long mane. It was interesting to see him now after so many years. When he was younger, Kou had been afraid of the powerful, steadfast creature. But as he’d grown taller and stronger, the horse’s intimidation shrank in perspective. The attending servant handed Kisa the reigns and the slave led him out onto the road, ending up next to Kou’s mount. They had just made it beyond the front gate when Kisa stopped, looking back at the palace one last time before moving on.

The two men said nothing as they travelled behind the wagons, though Kisa stole a few glances at the young lord. He was a bit surprised when he noticed that his master slowed his horse several times to make it easier for him to keep up on foot. From the brief contact they’d had, Kisa had seen incredible patience in the man, which was quite unlike the other nobles who always seemed to be in a hurry. It struck him as a little odd, but he did not question the matter.

Kou pulled his reigns when Kisa suddenly came to a halt, eyeing Theus with concern. He dropped the reigns and kneeled down next to the horse, picking up one of its hooves. After a brief glance, he reached into a pouch on his belt and produced a sharp tool, carefully digging at the underside of the hoof.

“Is anything wrong?” Kou asked.

“No, my lord,” Kisa replied, standing up and resting his hand on the horse’s flank. “It was just a rock wedged in his hoof.”

“Oh, I’m glad you saw that. I didn’t even notice his gait was off.”

Kisa nodded, picking up the reigns. “He can be very stubborn. But I’ve taken care of him for many years, so I know.”

Kou smiled as Kisa rubbed Theus’ velvety muzzle. The warhorse gently nickered and pushed against his hand. Though Kisa’s build was small, Kou couldn’t deny that the pair suited each other greatly with their black coloring. Even Kisa’s garments were dark blues and blacks, sharply contrasting with his white skin.

They began to walk again, and now that he was more alert, Kou’s concern turned to his newly acquired slave. It was a long journey to the city, and though he kept pace with the animals, Kou could see Kisa’s skin and hair glistening with sweat.

“If you grow tired,” Kou said. “You may ride with me.”

Kisa’s eyes widened and a small smile curled at his lips, which took Kou’s breath away. The young man was even more beautiful when he smiled.

“That would be most irregular, my lord,” Kisa replied with a hint of humor. “I can assure you that I am not at all weary.” 

A little dumbfounded, Kou simply grunted in return.

By the end of the afternoon, the caravan had reached the gates of Carthier, and many people stopped in the streets to admire the riches in the wagons. Kou lifted his hand in a wave as he recognized a few merchants he knew well, but turned as he heard Theus whinny. The horse was fine, but Kou furrowed his brow when he saw that Kisa had pulled the hood of his cloak up. The slave bowed his head and practically hid behind the horse’s muzzle as they headed through the crowded streets, walking much faster than he had on the road. Kou was confused at why the usually calm youth was so nervous, and the question weighed on his mind so much so that he decided to ask Kisa later.

 *** 

Kou sighed heavily as he sank into a chair in his bedchamber, which was ablaze with light from the setting sun. The day had been very taxing and he closed his eyes as his mind finally allowed him reprieve. But when he heard a knock on the door, he sat up.

“Come in.”

“Sorry to disturb you, my lord,” Kisa said as he entered, carrying a basin of water and a long piece of cloth. The slave knelt before him and began to undo his sandals to wash his feet from the journey, and Kou could not take his eyes off him. It amazed him how adept Kisa was at anticipating his needs and carrying them out before he was even asked. His transition from Khar was almost seamless, but Kou could not help but wonder how he was fairing with the change. He had often been told by other nobles that he was far too compassionate towards his household, but he had never particularly cared for their opinions.

“Kisa,” Kou said quietly. “Is it difficult for you to be in my service so soon after my uncle’s death?”

Kisa’s eyes flickered towards him, holding that same spark of humor. “You needn’t concern yourself with my well-being, my lord. I was made aware of circumstances long before Lord Khar passed.”

“I see. Then tell me, why did you cover your face when we entered the city?”

Kisa’s expression fell and for the first time, he seemed unsure of what he should answer.

“Habit, my lord. Lord Khar preferred me to stay hidden when we came here.”

Once again, Kou felt like he was only scratching the surface of a greater mystery, but for now, he resolved to leave it be. Instead, he leaned back in his chair as Kisa placed his feet in the cool water, his small hands gently washing the dust away. The action was incredibly soothing, and Kou took a long breath as Kisa rinsed and dried his feet. But instead of taking his leave right away, Kisa’s fingertips traced along the contours of his left foot and began to skillfully massage it, easing the strain of the day away. Kisa did the same with the other, but rather than relaxing him, Kou found his senses renewed with energy. His eyes fixed on Kisa and studied the beauty before him.

In the dwindling light, Kisa’s skin seemed to glow crimson, highlighting the subtle muscles of his chest and arms, and the gold bracelet secured above his elbow that identified him as a slave glinted like a winking eye. Kisa had changed his tunic and the garment he wore now was as black as his hair with an embroidered border that was loose around his shoulders.

Seeing Kisa up close, hearing his quiet breaths, and feeling the touch of his hands stirred the blood in Kou’s body, warming him even though the air had cooled. When Kisa set his foot back on the floor and began to get up, Kou’s hand reached out and brushed along the side of Kisa’s narrow jaw. Their eyes locked immediately and Kou’s breath grew heavy as Kisa rubbed his lips together. But when it became obvious that the lower part of Kou’s tunic was tenting upwards, he retracted his hand, a little embarrassed that his desire was so evident.

However, this did not alarm Kisa and he leaned forward, resting his hand on his master’s knee.

“Allow me, my lord,” he murmured.

Too intoxicated to refuse, Kou simply nodded, his heartbeat drumming in his ears as Kisa’s hands lifted up the edge of his tunic and freed his erection from underneath his breeches. The slave licked his lips again and moved in between Kou’s knees, leaning down and taking the man in his mouth.

Kou gripped the armrests and he felt sweat beading on his forehead as Kisa’s mouth bobbed up and down his member. He couldn’t believe how amazing it was. He’d had his share of flesh before, but had never been aroused so completely. Kisa slid his mouth off and began to swirl his tongue around the head, and his piercing eyes briefly glanced at Kou. His fingers craving to touch Kisa, Kou lifted his hands and cupped each side of the slave’s face, gliding along his skin and gently gripping his hair. Kisa grunted and engulfed Kou’s erection once more, this time going deeper. But despite his ecstasy, hunger still clawed at the young lord. He desired even more.

“Uh,” Kisa gasped as Kou’s hands went to his shoulders and slowly pushed him away. Kisa looked at Kou questioningly as the young lord stood and pulled his tunic over his head, revealing his tanned, muscled body. Kou offered a hand to him and Kisa took it, sucking in a breath as Kou pulled him into his arms and took his chin in hand. Kou kissed him deeply and Kisa obediently parted his mouth when his master’s tongue sought entrance.

Their mouths entwined, Kisa carefully retreated a few steps as Kou eased forward, guiding them in the direction of the bed. The slave panted when they finally broke their kiss, his breaths turning into a sigh as Kou’s large hands began to rove around his body. He shivered as Kou pushed him onto the bed and slid the tunic off, revealing his body completely.  Kou’s eyes were glazed with desire as they feasted on the pale, lean form before him, and his mouth watered in anticipation. He lifted a knee onto the bed and nudged Kisa’s legs farther apart as he climbed on top of him, his mouth beginning to suck on Kisa’s neck. His hands caressed the slave’s smooth skin, his thumbs brushing against his hardening nipples, which made Kisa moan.

Kou had very little experience with male slaves, but his instincts seemed to be on target. Kisa’s breaths were heavy, his face was flushed, and his man hood was hard from Kou’s touch. Seeing his throbbing erection pearling at the tip, Kou reached down and took it in his hand, making Kisa gasp. Kou began to stroke it, a little unsure of his technique but determined to do so regardless.

“Kisa,” he murmured, licking the slave’s neck. “Does it feel good?”

“M—my lord,” Kisa breathed. “You don’t need to concern yourself. I’m here for your pleasure alone.”

“But it pleases me to see you enjoying this as well,” Kou replied before capturing Kisa’s mouth in a kiss. As he continued to devour his slave, Kou became increasingly aware of his own desire, which had gone from a simmer to a boil. Kisa noticed this as well and sat up, shifting onto his knees.

“Shall I please you, my lord? I have already prepared myself.”

His knowledge deficient in this area, Kou grunted in reply and laid down when Kisa gestured to the head of the bed. Kou’s anticipation grew as Kisa climbed on top of him and took hold of his man hood, adjusting his slender hips as he eased Kou’s erection inside of him. Kisa’s breaths turned into gasps and he shuddered as the man filled him. He took a moment to adjust to the girth before he began to move, moaning deeply from the intensity of the position.

Kou’s hands gripped Kisa’s hips as pleasure fogged his mind. Kisa’s insides were hot and slick with oil, and his wanton cries only added to the sensation.

“Oh gods,” Kou sighed. “It feels incredible.”

Kisa looked down, sweat rolling along the side of his face as he steadily rode his master. But his pace abruptly slowed when Kou grabbed his hand and brought it to his lips.

“It must be because I’m with you,” he murmured, licking Kisa’s fingertips. The slave’s eyes widened and he gasped as Kou suddenly wrapped his arms around his waist and rolled him onto his back. Their positions reversed, Kisa moaned as Kou pinned his wrists and began to thrust. His movements were so strong that it wasn’t long before Kisa felt his body tipping over the edge, and his cries became more ardent. Close to release himself, Kou captured Kisa’s mouth in a fervent kiss as he drove faster and deeper, drinking in the boy’s wail as they both climaxed.

Kisa panted as Kou sat up, grimacing as his master withdrew from him. Even though he was currently hot and drunk from pleasure, Kisa shifted immediately, starting to roll off the bed so that he could retrieve his tunic and leave the bedchamber. But when strong arms wrapped around him from behind, he paused.

“Stay with me,” Kou breathed into his ear.

Though he was a little stunned by his master’s words, Kisa nodded and laid back down with Kou’s chest pressed against his back. Kou rested his cheek against the boy’s soft black hair, inhaling the potent scent of sweat and release. It was intoxicating, and before they knew it, master and slave were entangled in each other again, wading through the sea of passion all night long.


	4. Chapter 4

The sun was high the next day, and as midday approached, an intense heat overtook the Taphrenian capital. Most of the citizens took refuge in the shadows of buildings or trees in the summer air, and Kou was no exception. He sat in the shade of a lattice in his garden, breathing the saturated smell of plants and flowers as he worked on the canvas set before him. A few of his servants were currently uncrating all of Lord Khar’s paintings, and seeing them had ignited a spark of inspiration. He moved the sable brush across his canvas, calling forth another window from the world of creation. Kou hadn’t painted in a quite a while, and his body and spirit were awash with vitality.

Kou’s eyes were momentarily taken from his work as a bowl was set on the table beside him. He dipped his brush into it, studying the texture of the newly mixed paint. Seeing that the substance was rich but not too thick, he nodded approvingly.

“Perfect. Thank you,” he said, turning to Kisa and smiling.

The slave bowed his head in response, though Kou could see a bit of a blush coloring his cheeks. It might have been from the heat, but Kou didn’t think that was the only cause. The master and his new slave had feasted on each other’s flesh till the sun rose, and Kisa was acting a little differently than yesterday. Every now and then, Kou could sense Kisa’s large eyes staring at him, and the slave would grow flustered if Kou met his gaze or acknowledged the attention.

As he pondered their warm embraces amidst the sheets, Kou realized his feelings were Kisa changing. The heat and passion was still there, but a softer, tender feeling had emerged as well. Kou could not yet put words to his emotions yet, but he reasoned that they would come in time, and while he waited, he could enjoy Kisa’s company. In addition to being attentive and most delightful at night, Kou had also discovered that Kisa had vast knowledge of art as well. He knew how to mix paint, build frames, wrap canvasses, make brushes, and many other things. Jareth hadn’t been kidding when he said Kisa was valuable.

Kou’s brow furrowed and his eyes drifted from his work to where Kisa was standing at the other side of the terrace. He held a pitcher in his hands and was watering some of the plants. Kou studied Kisa for a moment, a little bothered by his choice of words. Kisa wasn’t one of Khar’s paintings or a war horse. He was a beautiful, intelligent, and intricate being. Even after their short time together, Kou saw him as much more than a possession. But as for what feelings he held for Kisa, Kou decided more reflection was necessary.

Footsteps echoed up the stone stairs in front of the terrace and Kou turned from his canvas as he heard a hearty voice.

“Ah Kou, I thought you would be out here today,” Reiva said as he approached with a young boy on his arm. Kou immediately recognized him as Lize, Reiva’s personal slave. Lize was just about eighteen and as petite as Kisa. He had lighter skin than most Taphrenians and fiery red hair that fell to his neck in loose waves. Reiva had acquired him at a port city about a year ago and had been enamored with the boy ever since. Reiva had ever changing interests in his personal life, but it seemed he hadn’t grown tired of this one yet.

“Afternoon, my friend,” Kou said, gesturing for Reiva to have a seat on a cushioned bench in the shade. Reiva took a seat, and Lize kneeled down to sit on a cushion at his feet. Reiva chatted about business and the newest gossip from the Senate as Kou continued to paint, though he studied the two from over the top of the canvas. Reiva absentmindedly stroked Lize’s hair as he prattled on, and the boy curled into his touch like a fond dog. It was obvious Lize was drawn to his master as well, which could have explained Reiva’s impassioned interest as of late.

“So,” Reiva asked coyly. “How was your sleep last night?”

At that precise moment, Kou was in the midst of a very delicate part of his composition, and being distracted as he was, answered more bluntly than he normally would have.

“There was very little of it.”

Reiva’s lips curled as he heard Kou’s words and noticed a blush cross Kisa’s face. “I had a feeling you would indulge.”

Kisa suddenly moved to Kou’s side, and looked like he was about to speak when Reiva suddenly lifted his voice.

“Kisa and Lize look like they’re about the same height. Age probably too. How old is Kisa?”

“Uh, I’m not sure,” Kou said, glancing at Kisa in question.

Kisa’s cheeks flushed again and he almost seemed reluctant to answer. “Thirty, my lord.”

Kou and Reiva’s mouths dropped simultaneously. Not only was Kisa much older than Lize, but he was older than both of them.

“By the gods,” Reiva said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Your slave might as well be from Shangri-La.”

“But that would make sense,” Kou added. “Jareth said my uncle acquired Kisa during the campaign in Valchiria, and that was almost two decades ago. Kisa, how old were you when you came here?”

Kisa swallowed hard but spoke clearly. “I was twelve.”

Reiva whistled. “Lord Khar probably started his training early. Though that seems to be in the fashion right now. Personally, I prefer mine to be a little more raw.”

As he spoke, Reiva traced his fingers along Lize’s neck down to his collarbones, dipping into the sweat drenched white tunic he wore. The boy’s breath hitched and he was lost to himself for a flicker of a second. Revia smiled, taking his hand out and resting it back on Lize’s head.

“Might I inquire as to what you are painting, Kou?”

“Oh nothing, really,” Kou smiled. In truth, he’s gotten a bit lost in the planning of his composition and wasn’t feeling too hopeful about the result. “Just trying to capture the beauty of emotion and solidify it in this fleeting life I have.”

“What a melancholy and egotistical philosopher you’d made, Kou,” Reiva sighed. He perked up, however, when he stumbled upon another thought. “But if you’d like to capture beauty, you should paint these two.”

“Hmm?” Kou said, looking up curiously.

“Kisa and Lize. Perhaps embracing each other. Now that would be a thing of beauty.”

When Kou didn’t immediately object to the idea, Reiva took the opportunity and urged Lize to sit up.

“Lize, go stand by Kisa.”

Lize looked at Reiva and Kisa looked at Kou.

“Go on, little one,” Reiva smiled.

Lize began to rise and Kou shrugged at Kisa. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to see a pose.”

Kisa nodded and the two slaves stood in front of a stone pillar with blooming vines creeping up it. Kou had to admit that his heart started beating faster when Lize and Kisa slowly embraced each other. He had to admit it would be a beautiful composition. The two were almost the same height, and were turned to the side, their arms wrapped around each other and their cheeks pressed together.

In fact, both masters at that moment started feeling a heat that had nothing to do with the weather.

“Lovely,” Reiva murmured. “They compliment each other well, especially with their hair. Like a soaring raven with wings of fire.”

“Please stay as still as you can,” Kou said, hurriedly grabbing a loose piece of scroll paper and sketching an outline of the two. Even the quick drawing looked wonderful, and Kou knew it would make a fine painting. However, even when he was done, he looked carefully between the sketch and the subjects.

Reiva laughed when Kou hesitated in telling the slaves to release their pose and leaned back, crossing his arms.

“You know, my friend, if you wanted to see them have a taste of each other, all you need to do is say so.”

Kou felt Kisa’s dark eyes on him and he blushed.

“Well, go on,” Reiva said, gesturing to the boys. “No need to be bashful.” 

Lize took a deep breath and leaned in, but Kou’s eyes widened as he saw Kisa’s gaze flicker to him for a brief moment before they kissed. Both slaves knowing what their masters wanted, they steadily advanced, moaning into each other’s mouths as they passionately kissed. Kisa’s hands travelled down to Lize’s waist embraced his lower back, and Lize threw his arms around Kisa’s neck, tangling his fingers into the dark hair.

Both of them were breathless and sweaty when they broke their kiss, and their masters both knew that there would be two or three couplings in order by the time the sun set.

“Uh, my lord,” Kisa said as he came back over to Kou. He still had a slight blush that Kou rather liked. “Would you like any refreshments? Wine or fruit perhaps?”

Although it was quite obvious that the only thing Kou wanted at that moment was Kisa, he smiled and nodded.

“Wine, please.”

Kisa nodded and bowed, and was surprised when Lize began to follow him out of the garden. Kisa looked at him curiously and Lize smiled nervously.

“My master is very picky about his wine. I know what he likes.”

Kisa nodded and allowed the younger slave to follow him up to the kitchen. They both began to select and prepare refreshments, and though Kou had only specifically said wine, Kisa was fixing an entire platter of meat, bread, and fruit as well. Master Kou had not eaten much today on account that his thoughts were on his art. Once the wine hit his stomach, Kou would probably grow rather hungry. It would always be like this on days that the Master painted. Kisa paused for a moment, remembering how similar Lord Khar had been in that aspect.

“Umm Kisa, was it?”

Kisa looked over to Lize, who had a rather serious expression. “Yes?”

“I was just wondering why you hesitated when we kissed. I assumed you already knew this, but it isn’t good form to keep your master waiting.”

Kisa stared at Lize with wide eyes for several moments, then turned away, making a small choking sound. Lize reached over and touched his arm, having the awkward thought that Kisa may be crying, but he was astounded when he saw that Kisa was laughing. He snickered for a few minutes before taking a deep breath and turning to Lize with a smirk on his face.

“Child, I’ve been doing this since before you were born. And I could make your master attack me like a lion with a single glance. You have promise, I’ll admit, but there is still much for you to learn.”

A deep blush spread over Lize’s freckled cheeks at Kisa’s words and he looked away in embarrassment.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Kisa smiled. “Not everyone has the fortune of actually having affection towards their master. You are lucky. And you should take advantage of the fact.”

Lize finally turned back towards Kisa. “What do you mean?”

“A good slave knows how to increase his master’s anticipation without exhausting his patience. Slow your advance a little. From what I’ve witnessed, Lord Reiva is the type of man who likes to be teased, even if he won’t say it outright.”

Lize’s blue eyes widened in shock, and he pondered what Kisa had told him for several minutes as they finished preparations and began to carry the large platters back to the garden.

“And one more thing,” Kisa said. “Never be too quick to touch another person. Nothing pleases a master more than the realization that he is the only one who can satisfy you.”

Lize nodded, but his brows were furrowed as they walked. As they neared the garden, he finally spoke.

“You’re a lot different than you appear at first glance.”

Kisa smiled again. “A person like us wears three masks in his lifetime: the one he shows to his master, the one he shows to others, which can be very different from each other.”

“What’s the third one then?”

“The mask he shows to no one,” Kisa said, switching masks at that precise moment as headed in the direction of his master.

 *** 

The rest of the day passed along and the sun was beginning to set on the horizon. Kou was still out under the garden lattice, but he had stopped painting quite a while ago. He lay on one of the benches, listening to the sounds of chirping insects and the wind rustling the leaves. Reiva and Lize had left later that afternoon, and Kou imagined they had barely made it home before they were entangled in each other. Kisa was putting away his tools, and was now approaching the garden again, carrying an oud. Kisa sat on the ground near his master, starting to tune the stringed instrument.

“A song, my lord?”

“Yes,” Kou replied. “Do you sing as well?”

“I do, my lord.”

“Then something to honor my late uncle, perhaps. I thought of him quite a bit while I worked today.”

Kisa bowed his head and began to strike the same note over and over, creating a strong rhythm as he began to add other notes as well. It struck Kou as solemn, almost eerie. And as Kisa began to sing in a low, melodic voice, Kou’s eyes closed.

_“Saw the demonstration_  
 _on remembrance day,_  
 _lest we forget the lesson_  
 _enshrined in funeral clay._  
 _History is never written_  
 _by those who've lost._  
 _The defeated must bear witness to_  
 _our collective memory loss._  


_“With every generation comes_  
 _another memory lapse._  
 _See the demonstrations of_  
 _failing to learn from our past._  
 _We live in the dreamtime,_  
 _nothing seems to last._  
 _Can you really plan a future,_  
 _when you no longer have a past?_  
  
_“Memories fall from the trees._  
 _Memories like autumn leaves._

_Amnesia…”*_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Song: "Amnesia" by Dead Can Dance


	5. Chapter 5

Kou sighed as he sank into the steaming water, scents of lavender and lily oil permeating in the misty bath house. He combed a hand through his damp golden locks, staring at the carved wooden beams up in the ceiling. But his eyes were soon drawn to the door as Kisa came back in, carrying several towels. Kou studied him carefully. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but Kisa had seemed distracted the past few hours. What could possibly be weighing his mind down?

Little did Kou realize that he was partially the cause. As Kisa set the towels down on a wooden chest, his mind was leagues away. Although the day had gone smoothly, even with Reiva and Lize’s antics, Kisa was feeling very uneasy. He couldn’t explain it. There was an ache in his head and stomach that had been increasing throughout the entire day, though very little had happened.

True to Kisa’s expectations, Lize had taken his advice and immediately became a little less attentive to Lord Reiva. Kisa wouldn’t proclaim it as major progress, but it certainly was enough to get Reiva to notice. By the time they left, they were already a hot sweaty mess, and Kisa imagined Lize would get all the affection he wanted tonight.

His anxiety rose as he briefly stared at Kou, but a pleasant shiver at the memory of their couplings seemed to calm it. The sight of his new master evoked different reactions from him: surprise, confusion, lust. Kisa had been battling these inconsistent emotions all day, and after a bit of pondering, he began to uncover the roots of the tree. The truth was actually very simple: Kisa did not regard Kou in the same way he had Lord Khar, as an infallible master.  Even worse was the fact that Kisa did not know how exactly he regarded Kou. These conclusions were frightening, and Kisa ran a wrist across his sweaty forehead, still trying to calm himself.

Kou wasn’t the same as Khar, no. They had similar traits, but Kou was far more relaxed, almost like Khar had been in his last days. Kisa hadn’t treated them any differently, and yet they had become so separate in his mind that Kisa wondered if something was wrong with him.

“Kisa?”

Kisa’s eyes shot back to Kou, who seemed to be regarding him with concern.

“Yes, master?”

“Is something wrong?”

“Not in the least, my lord,” Kisa replied without a hint of doubt.  

Kou nodded and watched from afar as Kisa gathered up the towels and soap and came over to kneel beside the large bath that sank into the ground. Despite the plumes of steam rising from the water, Kisa could still see every part of Kou’s naked body, which made his cheeks flush from the memory of touching it. However he swallowed his desire, beginning to lather soap in his hands and smooth it along Kou’s tan shoulders. But his movements were abruptly stopped when a strong hand seized his wrist. Kou looked over his shoulder and Kisa was captured by the gaze of his amber eyes that had taken on a sultry glint.

“My lord?” he murmured in an unsure voice.

Kou gently tugged his wrist. “Bathe with me.”

Kisa’s uncertainty twisted into shock. “S—surely you must be joking, my lord.”

“I’m not,” Kou replied quietly but firmly. “Get in.”

Knowing he couldn’t refuse, a light shiver went through Kisa’s frame and he nodded silently. He undid the sash around his waist and let his tunic slip to the floor before sinking into the hot water alongside Kou. Kisa let Kou pull him into his lap and closed his eyes as Kou kissed him. In a matter of minutes, Kou was feasting on his chest, and the intense heat of the water and his master’s embrace made Kisa’s head foggy till he could no longer dwell on the enigma.

***

Kisa let out a high moan as Kou thrust inside him, his hands balling into fists against the wall of the bedchamber. It was well into the night, but both of them were far too enraptured in each other to sleep. That afternoon had kindled a flame in Kou’s loins, and his hunger was not yet sated.

Kisa threw his head back as Kou plunged a bit deeper, pushing his lithe form even closer to the wall. Sweat drops fell from Kou’s golden head as he devoured his slave, and his grip on Kisa’s hips tightened.

Kisa tightly shut his eyes as he felt the tumultuous waves of pleasure crash upon him, and his breath grew ragged as a light feeling began to spread through his limbs. At first he resisted, but its clutch was far too great and Kisa felt his knees give way as the faintness overpowered him.

Kou’s eyes widened and he quickly wrapped his arms around Kisa as he sunk, supporting his limp form.

“Are you okay, Kisa?” he asked.

His tone sounded genuine, but Kisa was far too occupied catching his breath to answer. Seeing Kisa collapse and tremble in his arms aroused Kou in a different way, and he was gentle as he pulled out. He then swept Kisa up in his arms to carry him over to the bed, and even in his discombobulated state, Kisa managed a displeased look at being carried like a bride. But the expression faded away after Kou set him on the bed and pressed their lips together. His hands went to Kisa’s legs and took hold underneath his knees, spreading him wide open. Kisa let a muffled moan into Kou’s mouth as he felt his master mount him again, and moisture gathered at the corner of his eyes. Kou began to take him harder and faster and his shaky hands tightly gripped the bed sheets as he felt himself getting nearer to release. Just when he felt his limit breaking, Kou drove deeper into him and came, his breaths heavy with exertion.

But after his release, Kisa felt far more than mere exertion. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he feverishly panted, and he couldn’t stop himself from shaking. Kisa couldn’t even fathom a single thought, and Kou noticed the glassiness of his dark eyes.

The young lord carefully withdrew and covered Kisa with a blanket, lying down next to him and sweetly kissing each of his teary eyelids.  

“I think I consumed a little too much of you tonight,” Kou murmured. “Get some sleep.”

The first coherent thought that Kisa could muster was that he should leave the chamber immediately and return to his own bed. But just as he had last night, Kou wrapped his arms around him in a way that indicated Kisa wouldn’t be departing any time soon. As he slowly came back to himself, Kisa tried not to shift too much in Kou’s arms even though he felt a bit trapped. Despite his weariness, Kisa’s anxiety was returning, and he knew that sleep would not come easily to him tonight. The lingering sensation of Kou’s touch was blissful, but the unease in his mind spread like a poison. His body was both aroused and confused, and Kisa felt powerless in their grasp. Kou’s embrace was just far too fierce.

But this simple thought ignited a theory in Kisa’s mind. Kou had taken him ravenously two nights in a row, almost to the point of exhaustion. Kisa hadn’t been embraced this fiercely in decades due to Lord Khar’s age, so it was little wonder why his stamina was so weak. This thought was oddly comforting to Kisa, and his eyes began to close. The reason for his uncertainty was simply that he was not used to his new master or routine. He only needed some time to adjust, and that was that.

***

_The stench of fire and blood hung thickly in the air as the legions of Taphrenian soldiers raided the last few houses of the village. Screams also permeated the air, and a young boy felt the hair on the back of his neck stand as he heard her dying cry, though his face remained vapidly composed. Her severed head rolled to the ground and the boy watched as the mounted soldier wiped the blood from his sword. His bright red uniform and armor was littered with gold emblems, so he had to be important enough to be a general. For a brief moment, the boy considered running, as the soldier had not noticed him watching from behind the barn door. But the idea flew up and died like a spark, and he stepped out into the open. His sudden movement caused the soldier to turn his horse and charge, but the boy still did not run. Even when the cold blade was up against his neck, the boy only took another look at her headless body and smiled._

_The glittering soldier scrutinized him carefully. “You are faced with death and yet you do not weep?”_

_The boy’s lifeless eyes rose. “No.”_

_For a brief moment, the blade pressed harder against his skin, but a flicker of surprise crossed his face as the soldier retracted his sword and sheathed it. He dismounted his horse and took off his helmet. As he approached, the boy peered at the face of a handsome, golden-haired man with eyes like a great lion. The boy flinched as the man took his chin in hand and carefully scrutinized him._

_“I am Lord Khar,” the man said. “Commanding General of the Taphrenian army, and I offer you a choice. If you do not wish you meet your death just yet, then come and serve me.”_

_The boy only showed the barest of hesitance before getting down on his knees and bowing his head._

_Khar grunted approvingly. “Stand.”_

_The boy did as he was told and remained docile as Khar picked him up and set him on his great black steed. Khar mounted the horse as well, wrapping a strong arm around the boy’s waist as they rode through the burning village._

_“What is your name?” Khar asked._

_“Shouta, my lord.”_

_“You are no longer bound to this country or that name. You are mine now, and you will be called ‘Kisa,’ a fitting name for a beauty. Bear it well…”_

_***_

In the midst of his dreaming, Kisa’s brow furrowed and he tossed and turned on the bed. If the memory had progressed, he probably would have awoken, but the scene in his mind soon shifted and he was taken somewhere completely different.

 *** 

_Kisa leaned against the stone ledge encircling the balcony outside Lord Khar’s bedchamber, looking at the stars with a strangely cold expression. He did not move for several hours, and the longer he stayed in the winter’s night air, the more melancholy his expression became until tears rolled down his cheeks. The tears were born of sorrow and anger was not far behind it. As the torrent in his chest grew, Kisa’s gaze grew venomous and he lifted his eyes to the stars, trembling in silent rage._

_He cursed the stars. He cursed them with the blackest, most vile words in the universe. How dare they give him such a cruel, inescapable fate. And how dare they observe it without a speck of pity or remorse._

_Kisa bowed his head as he heard approaching footsteps, but did not turn around or say anything. He heard a slight sigh and shivered as he felt muscular arms embrace him from behind, caging him but also protecting him._

_“Let what happened tonight fade from your memory,” Lord Khar said. “It will only poison the soul I have worked so hard to set free.”_

_Tears continued to flood Kisa’s eyes. “I thought I was finally able to disregard the superstitions my people forced on me, but tonight has only reminded me that I can never completely escape them.”_

_“You mean that nonsense about the stars? They are only lights in the sky, lovely one. They cannot determine a person’s fate. If they could, you would not be here with me.”_

_Khar turned Kisa around and took his chin in hand. Light met darkness as their eyes beheld each other, and Khar’s gaze quickly grew endearing._

_“You are the only joy left in my life, my beauty…my Kisa…”_


End file.
